


Talking to the D.o.D.

by failsafe



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Missing Scene, Multi, Short One Shot, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 03:59:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8356201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/failsafe/pseuds/failsafe
Summary: A missing scene at the end of The Winter Soldier.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I found this in my 'mine' tag on tumblr. I thought it was okay and it filled me with nostalgia and it had nine notes. Giving it a second chance. Tumblr user morethanprinceofcats obliged me with a Steve/Nat prompt, but I knew it wasn't exactly her thing, so I wrote it with a Steve/Nat or OT3 or gen focus depending on your goggles. Written approximately September 2014?

The beeping and low electric hum of the medical equipment becomes louder and almost familiar to Steve’s ears. He’s awake more and more until after a few hours of fading in and out, he’s staying awake. He squints a little straight up at the light on the ceiling. He turns his head to his right again and smiles.

Sam’s still there.

And he looks exhausted. The door rattles a bit as it opens up, slow and casual in spite of the armed guards who stand vigil at the door.

“Hey there,” Sam says, the soles of his shoes squeaking against the floor as he lets them down. Steve hadn’t noticed they were propped up. Sam’s voice drags out, warm and long.

Steve focuses his eyes down the length of his body and fixes on the person standing at the foot of his bed. Natasha’s smile is directed toward Sam and a little crooked, but Steve thinks it straightens a little as she meets his eyes. Her hands come to touch the hard plastic foot board of the bed. They wring around without regard for any trace they leave behind.

“You’re still here,” Steve says, noting the formal, dark angles of her clothes. She seems different—wearing a different costume—but her face is more familiar than it used to be.

“Yeah,” Natasha agrees, and he wonders if her voice is lower than he remembers. She keeps moving her hands back and forth like she intends to rev the bed and get them both out of here. Suddenly, they release and she straightens her posture, arms relaxing in the form of a brief shrug. “Had some _business_ to attend to for you,” she says, some playful weight to her words.

"D.o.D.?” Sam guesses, but it sounds like he’s confirming what he already knows.

“Yeah. I’d complain. I don’t think you’re getting the credit you deserve,” Natasha replies with the glint of her teeth.

“I don’t need credit. I need a nap,” Sam returns.

“You can have mine. Go get some food, Sam,” she encourages without much room for argument. In the corner of Steve’s eye, Sam’s head lolls back a little against the greenish cushioned back of the chair. He slumps to try and make it work.

“I’m good,” Steve assures Sam shortly. “Have you been here the whole time?”

“Where I wanna be.”

“You still need to eat,” Natasha reminds him. She nods toward the door and Sam pushes himself up and steadies himself on his feet. He stops on his way toward the door to reach up and touch the sleeve of Natasha’s blazer.

“You did good?”

Natasha watches Steve’s eyes for so long he wonders if that’s her answer, but then she meets Sam’s with a smirk and another little shrug.

“They’re not going to arrest us.”

Sam nods deeply.

“Well, that’s a start. I know they’ve at least got coffee around here,” he says, giving himself impetus to leave the room.

“You talked to the Department of Defense for me?” Steve asks, squirming to see if he can prop himself up on his elbows. He’s sore from inactivity, but he’s felt worse he tells himself. He knows he has.

Natasha walks over to his bedside and perches on the edge of the seat Sam had just vacated. She reaches out and a careful fingertip presses down on a flat remote panel that looks a little outdated even to Steve’s eyes. It jumps to action almost immediately, though, and the bed moves to accommodate his further sitting up.

“Yes, well, we all know how much Captain America _loves_ the spotlight…” she teases.

Steve clears his throat and chuckles.

"Yeah,” he agrees, little more than a cough through a smile.

“I do,” Natasha amends. 


End file.
